Falling from Grace
by Neflanthir
Summary: One-shot of Mairon taking the final step into darkness when he first joins Melkor in Middle-earth.


He wasn't sure when things had changed; it had been gradual at first, a simple appreciation of Melkor's methods, which over time had grown into adoration. The Vala knew what he wanted and he gained it quickly and masterfully, there was none of the chaos or wasted effort that was so prevalent elsewhere in anything that Melkor handled.

It had been some time now since his master had fled the Valar, unable to hide his ambition and unwilling to ignore it. Those Maiar who served him had remained to act as spies, himself included, and as yet, the Valar seemed entirely unaware, despite all that Melkor became aware of.

Mairon had been promised that he could join Melkor in Middle-earth soon and he was looking forward to it. As beautiful as Valinor was, he was getting tired of acting and of not being able to be more productive in aiding his Lord.

The Valar lacked the drive and determination of his master and seemed oblivious to far too many things. As much as they interacted with the First Born, their ability to understand them could certainly be better but even where the Maiar were concerned, the Valar still failed to comprehend their workings, otherwise they would have realised by now that Melkor had help.

All in all, he was tired of the lacking of the Valar and wanted to bring about order as soon as was feasible and if that meant betraying Aule and the others then so be it. He knew there would be no regrets from following that path because of his adoration of Melkor and because order and decisive action was needed for anything to get done. Far too often matters that should be handled promptly were ignored and left to progress slowly and ineffectively and he couldn't stand much more of the inadequacy.

He heard someone enter the forge and knew it was Aule from the feel of the presence. After ensuring his work was safe, he turned from the forge and bowed to the Lord of Craft with a reverence he didn't feel.

Aule smiled slightly and nodded in return. "Always hard at work..."

"Of course, my Lord, is there something you require of me?"

"You have lost track of time, I assume?"

Mairon was about to ask why when he realised there was a feast being held that day, one that everyone was meant to attend. "It seems I have, yes, my apologies. Might I finish here first or am I required to come immediately?"

"It will be ruined if you leave it now, so I will allow you tardiness, I cannot imagine it will take you long to finish the piece."

"My Lord" Mairon replied, bowing again before Aule left him alone again.

He had hoped the instruction of attendance wouldn't be enforced but he was evidently not going to be that lucky. There were enough followers of Melkor in Valinor that it wouldn't matter if he didn't attend, the same information would be learnt and passed on.

Unfortunately he had no choice in the matter; Aule had made it clear enough that his presence was required, so he would just have to accept that. Pretending to care, to follow and respect them, was almost too much effort of late but unless he wanted to fail Melkor, he had to do it anyway.

It wouldn't be for much longer; the words had become a mantra but he needed them to stay sane and not say something he really wasn't meant to. His Lord's ambitions aside, the Valar would not appreciate his opinion of them and he would be severely punished for it.

Stepping out of the forge once he had finished, he idly noted the temperature difference; though it held no effect on him, he liked to be aware of his surroundings and it was hard to miss the differences between the heat-laden forge and the breezy outdoors.

Sighing, he resigned himself to his fate and was about to make his way to the feast when he saw something move at the edge of peripheral vision. He moved towards the source and rounded the corner of a building, upon which he was surprised to see a crow perched atop a barrel, looking expectantly at him.

It was a message from Melkor, but it was unusual for them to arrive so openly, since there was a risk of others seeing them. He approached the bird and held out his hand, the bird disappeared and the magic it was made from revealed the message he had been sent. A smile curled on his lips as soon as it was received; 'everything is in place, you may join me when you are ready'. Perhaps he wouldn't have to attend the feast and feign fealty after all.

Shifting his form into that of a gull, he started his journey to Middle-earth, he had never been there before and didn't know how long the journey would take but it was easy enough to change into a different form if this one proved to be unsuitable, for now however, it was the one least likely to draw suspicion.

Eventually he arrived at Melkor's side after an uneventful yet interesting trip; Middle-earth was a very different place to Valinor and he could understand why his Lord had decided to gain dominion here. Given the size of the continent, it was unlikely to be a short campaign but at least he could take decisive action to gain control for his Lord and as long as he was doing something to end the chaos and bring everything into order, he could be content.

Changing form again, he took his first step upon Middle-earth, his new home. It was dark here, lacking the light of the two trees that illuminated Valinor. Between the light of the stars and the torches held by the strange creatures with Melkor, he could discern enough of the land around him. There were tall mountains behind where they stood, sharp and threatening for any who might try to ascend them. The grass was well-trodden and little cared for, presumably courtesy of Melkor's creations, but there was little else he could see of note.

He had half expected to be attacked by the creatures, but they had ignored him, perhaps because Melkor had. They appeared to be mockeries of the First Born, vile, ugly creatures who seemed to revel in violence, given their reaction to the First Born before Melkor.

He was bruised and bleeding and kept kneeling before the Vala by two of the creatures holding swords to his throat. He had glanced at Mairon when he had arrived but upon discerning he would be offered no aid, had turned his attention back to Melkor again.

Whatever the First Born had done, Melkor clearly had no intention of over-looking it and it seemed he knew that as well. Despite that, the brunette showed no signs of begging for mercy, there was defiance in his eyes, which spoke of his unwillingness to stoop to such levels of weakness.

Mairon had witnessed the attack on Almaren but he had little knowledge or experience with battle, pain or death. That would no doubt change now that he had joined Melkor here, though he wasn't sure what to think of that. While he would do anything necessary to achieve his Lord's goals, he had yet to harm anyone and knew that such acts were considered evil.

The part of him that remained unchanged wanted to question Melkor on the First Born's charge, and depending on the answer, request mercy be shown. The torture the other was being placed under seemed unnecessary, but he knew Melkor would disapprove if he spoke, so he ignored it as best he could and left the matter alone.

Turning his attention away from the torn and bloodied clothing, he looked around more, though there was little to see, a vast plain with little source of light made for an uninteresting study. Still, until Melkor was ready to acknowledge him, it was really all he had to do, whether it was lacking in points of interest or not.

"Mairon" Melkor called firmly.

Turning back to face his master, he bowed. "Yes, my Lord?"

Melkor ushered him over before placing a large metal mace in his hand. "Kill him."

He hesitated briefly before he saw that Melkor meant it and that disobeying him would be a mistake. Turning to the First Born he swallowed hard, this was the point where everything changed and he was afraid he would fail. His would-be-victim simply smiled and nodded, affirming that he was ready to be put out of his misery.

Closing his eyes and taking a breath to steady nerves, the Maia opened them again before hitting the other hard round the head. Blood spurted from the wound and he had heard the bone crunch upon impact. The First Born dropped lifelessly to the ground and Mairon felt Melkor place a hand on his shoulder.

"Well done, Sauron, welcome to my future dominion, you shall make me a fine lieutenant."

Sauron? He wouldn't argue over the change in name, though he was unwilling to forgo Mairon entirely. He was relieved to have please his Lord rather than having failed has he feared. Looking back at the corpse, a smile graced his lips, perhaps this change would be easy after all; taking the life of the First Born had provided him a sense of power that he had never felt before, one he was quite happy to experience again. Turning, he followed Melkor and the creatures back to Melkor's stronghold. Who needed the light of the Valar when the darkness seemed to be that much more fun?


End file.
